


Heatwaves and Frostbite

by SwampWitch333



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Bad Poetry, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 09:44:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16972257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwampWitch333/pseuds/SwampWitch333





	Heatwaves and Frostbite

This one I've succeeded with, a successor to nothing yet all in the same breathe.  
Succulent the seeds strained to grow, without a care of vociferous winds that blow in attempts to pollinate.  
Just one sip from bloodied chapped lips clamp, unhampered, to my miscreant deeds.  
For I've tried to lead, the force feeding of souls, fall empty amongst blood dried teeth; a hunger i do not care to sleep upon.  
Sloppiness, the folly, frost ridden the frigid, trying to damn the queen.  
For she has burned down the skies, i pry open heavy lidded eyes, one by one.  
Cover ups, touch ups, attempts to improve imperfections of every mark;  
My trophy, at ease, no rest for the wicked ever comes, why can you not abide by these tides of mine?

You've continuously checked in on me, forever greatful, i possess the innate hatred of eradicating your enemies.  
Slurred on your personal koolaid, I'll revive this tonight.  
Out of sight, the cat bat's at mice, only to eat them, the hunger unsatisfied, roils deep within.  
The constant call to sin, this world we delve in.  
Full loyalty lies within, a vacant Goddess, in need of reckoning, with every beckon, i return, family spurned, for I've killed off all, for the riches and serenity in mind.  
I'll turn with blinded eyes, the sun cast aside, to your delinquent deeds, if you disregard mine.

How perfect a match, striker two to attack, I've never cared about the flack from others' anyway.  
Personal pitbulls, unleashed, Vera, you remain in chains eternally.  
My slave to the grave, in white, for who wears the noble knight syndrome so well?

For your dress is cloaked with the light gray ashes of sin.

Bodies tossed down wells, no need to tell, even under the plunder of lagers.  
I've always kept secrets well, dear overseer who sees things, mushroom clouds, eyes sting. The annexations i bring, are fit for more detrimental wings, angel's have shedded to break bread with dreadedful humanity.

What is it you seek, Vera?  
For i feed off your weakness  
I tempt you with a taste, you crawl back for more and more honey from your queen, having differentiated yorself from the drones.

For i sow the chaos I've reaped, there can be purity found in evil. Deceit well done a medium rare Who dares touch my assemblance there?

It's cold here..  
Why yes it is, my dear.

Scorched lips turning calamitous in fractured blue hues  
Back to the depths again, the mistress, a fooled tool only to be taken out of Pandora's box, for a new use. Until then, just allow sleep to wash over you. Hollow hallowed bones adhered shuddering against glacial concrete.


End file.
